Mayfly Cage
by EllipsesBandit
Summary: A CSIPrince of Tennis crossover... I know, but it works.  Sara and Grissom run into an interesting photographer.  Birthday present for the lovely microgirl.  [GSR, TezuFuji.]


_**Title**: Mayfly Cage_

_**Author: ** The Ellipses Bandit_

_**Disclaimer:** I am not responsible for any of these characters  
_

_**Fandoms: ** CSI and Prince of Tennis_

_**Pairings:** GSR and TezuFuji_

_**Summary:** Set post finale for CSI and futurefic for PoT. Sara and Grissom have an encounter with an unusual photographer._

_**A/N:** This fic was a birthday gift for the lovely microgirl. She liked it and demanded I post it here, so here ya go. We've collaborated on the CSI and PoT crack-crossover before, but this is my first solo with Grissom and Sara, and I've really only seen the episodes she's shown me to prove the ultimate canon glory of the GSR. If you enjoy live action American crime drama meets Japanese shounen-ai sports anime, check out our collaborative works under the pen name TROZInc. (we will update it again soon. Promise!) However, you don't really need to know PoT to understand the fic. Oh, and a veeeeeeeeeeeery mild slash warning for the TezuFuji. _

* * *

Getting a day off together was rare; getting an evening off together was bordered on impossible. Sara, however, was still on leave despite being physically recovered, and Grissom was rapidly using up his stock-piled vacation "taking care of her." They'd remained fairly homebound for the duration of her recovery, but Catherine was nice enough to get them a gift certificate to the one of the restaurants at the Bellagio so they'd be forced into at least one evening out. After the second-best vegetable lasagna Sara had ever eaten in her life, the two of them walked outside to look at the fountain and just to walk.

Sara walked everywhere these days. Walking had never felt so… fulfilling. Every step was a testament to her strength. She wondered how many people in this world understood how amazing such a commonplace feat was.

"We should go hiking again," she said to Grissom as they watched the colored lights refract in the streams of water.

Grissom blinked. "We should?"

"Yeah. I want to go walk around that lake and look for caterpillars again."

"I thought you hated camping."

"I want to hike."

The nice thing about Grissom was that he understood Sara's sudden obsession with hiking without her having to delve into the miracles of bipedal lifestyles. He just nodded. "The eggs usually hatch mid-April, but we could probably view the Spiny Crawler Mayflies."

"Aren't those the bugs that only live a day?"

"But it's an amazing day."

Sara tightened her grip on his arm and tried to remember when going to view a swarm of mating flies became romantic. "I'd like that."

Grissom glanced down at her, a boyish grin playing on his features that had looked far too tired recently. Then, he leaned down and kissed her, which was even more amazing than being able to walk.

The camera flash didn't faze her much. Tourists were always taking photos of the fountain, and she figured they just happened to be on the edge of someone's shot. The light would have gone entirely unnoticed had they not heard a throat clearing behind them a few moments after they parted.

"Excuse me," said a young man, probably in his mid-twenties. He had a slight Japanese accent, and dyed brown hair. He glanced sideways, as if a little embarrassed, but smiled warmly at them. "You're going to think I'm extremely rude, but I'm a photographer and … etou, one moment." He shuffled through a large camera bag, eventually producing a business card and handing it to Sara.

It read in flowing, silvery script: "Syusuke Fuji: Freelance Photography." Underneath was a set of Japanese characters that Sara assumed meant the same.

The man continued. "I'm working on an illustration book about Las Vegas at the moment, and I was hoping to get your permission to use the photo I just took of the two of you in it."

"You were taking that photo of _us_?" asked Grissom with a raised eyebrow.

Fuji nodded, still smiling.

"Kissing?" Sara clarified, wondering what sort of illustration book this was.

Another nod. "Yes. But I can't print it without your permission. Would you be willing to drop by my hotel and sign a few forms? Or I could meet you somewhere if you prefer."

Sara and Grissom exchanged a look, equal parts curiosity and apprehension. Eventually, Grissom said, "I think we may need to consider it a bit."

Fuji looked a little disappointed. "I understand, but I do hope you'll agree. If you'd like, you can see the photo developed first." He took out another business card and scribbled a few numbers on the back and handed it to Grissom. "This is my hotel's number . I can have it ready by tomorrow with some of the others if you'd like to get an idea about the collection."

"We'll think about it," Sara said, which brightened Fuji's smile considerably. He made a short bow, and then left. "You really do get all kinds in this city," she chuckled after he was out of earshot.

"You think he was that strange?"

"Of course. I mean, who'd want to look at pictures of complete strangers kissing?"

Grissom shrugged. "Maybe we should find out."

"You want to go?"

"It's worth seeing how the picture turned out at least."

Sara had to admit, she was a little curious about that.

"I still think he was a little strange."

* * *

The hotel Fuji indicated was a few blocks off the strip in a somewhat cheaper area than the big names. When she'd called the photographer that morning, Sara had to admit she was a little taken aback by his exuberance and open invitation. She'd never been one to trust strangers, but Grissom didn't seem put off, and the thought of that picture was enough to get them both to the door…

…which was answered by a tall, sleepy-looking man who was most definitely not Fuji. He looked confused at their presence for a moment, disheveled brown hair and half-unbuttoned shirt suggesting he hadn't been expecting company. His eyes, however, analyzed the visitors sharply behind thin, oval glasses.

"Sorry," Grissom began, "I think we might have the wrong room."

"You're the people from the fountain," the man stated suddenly. He didn't ask, but announced the fact with a voice permitting no argument. "Fuji didn't tell me you were coming. I'm Kunimitsu Tezuka, Fuji's manager."

A shout echoed from the bathroom. "When we're on location, you're my assistant!"

Tezuka shut his eyes for a second, composing himself. Grissom saved him by answering, "I'm Gil Grissom, and this is my fiancée, Sara Sidle." Sara still wasn't used to being introduced like that, and a thrill rushed up her spine every time he used the word. It was enough to make even her want to attend parties where Grissom would introduce her again and again.

Their unprepared host invited them inside, gesturing towards the direction Fuji's voice came from and explaining. "He made the bathroom his developing studio. He should be out soon."

"Let them look at the collections in my portfolio!"

"Which is where?"

"Blue suitcase!"

Tezuka looked through three suitcases (all blue) before finally pulling two slim volumes from a leather portfolio. "Fuji's been working for boards of tourism lately. He did these for Tokyo and Hamburg." Sara picked up the German volume, which had the word "Anschluß" in gold script across the top. The first picture featured the St. Nikolai Church, seeming tall enough to poke through the top of the photograph. She found her eyes, however, more drawn to a tiny blonde figure in the corner, absorbed in what appeared to be a PSP. The second was of a pastry shop in a building at least a hundred years old. Small groups of people conversed at café tables in front of it eating elegantly crafted rolls and typing on sleek laptops. Every print looked like a window to a historic past until one noticed the touches of modernity seeping through.

Grissom, meanwhile, flipped through the book on Tokyo. The theme of this volume was obviously one of motion. Every picture featured a fast moving object, from diving swallows to sports cars. She was amazed at the detail the photographer managed to capture despite the pace of the subject matter. The Tokyo book had a much richer saturation in color than the antique feel of the German book. Even the photo showing a bicyclist speeding past Tokyo Tower in the pouring rain picked up the orange reflection in the dozen puddles of water, making it an amazingly bright storm.

"Do you like them?" Fuji asked, carefully shutting the bathroom door behind him to permit as little light inside as possible.

"It's quite a broad range," Grissom commented, his eyes skimming over a shot of an airplane viewed through a veil of cherry blossoms. It appeared to be floating delicately on a single, pink petal.

"I get bored photographing the same thing too often. It's why I started begging tourist boards for commissions." He walked barefoot into the room, sitting comfortably on the bed and pointing to the next photo in the book, a pink-haired girl in a bright vinyl suit on the back of a motorcycle. "That's my sister during her Harajuku days. She yelled at me for weeks when she found out I submitted it."

"Is the bathroom safe?" Tezuka asked from his seat next to Grissom.

Fuji shrugged. "Mostly."

"Mostly?"

"I got rid of all the chemical solutions, but I'm still drying some prints in the shower, so mostly."

Tezuka looked like he wanted to roll his eyes, but didn't want to give Fuji the satisfaction of doing so. Instead the two of them exchanged a look through which a rapid-fire argument/battle of wills took place. Sara seriously doubted a relationship with that level of eye contact communication was purely professional. Also, there was only one bed in the hotel room.

Tezuka eventually appeared to lose the match, sighed and said, "I'll get lunch then." Turning to Sara and Grissom, he asked, "Would you like to join us?"

"We really shouldn't …" Sara began, but Fuji cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"I think that's a great idea. And I can show you the Vegas photos while we wait." He smiled up at Tezuka, who gave a polite bow to the visitors, before brushing a hand over Fuji's shoulder and leaving. The photographer, meanwhile, opened a simple brown envelope, passing it to Sara. "I suppose you're anxious to see this."

Delicately, Sara took the photograph, holding it so Grissom could look too. She'd never been overly fond of the camera and didn't understand people who were. Looking at photos of herself, she always picked out the worst points first, even if no one else in the room was likely to notice them. Her eyes had a habit of turning out half-closed, or the outfit would hang wrong, or her smile would show off that annoying gap; it was easier to avoid photographs all together except when required.

But this photo… Sara barely recognized herself. The lights from the Bellagio fountain haloed the two of them, creating an interesting play of light and shadow on their features. It picked up the hint of red in Sara's hair, the silver glint of Grissom's glasses, even a spark of light off of her engagement ring. Her right arm tugged on Grissom's jacket, pulling him closer even as their lips began to part. Most striking of all, however, was the expression on both of their faces. Sara had never seen herself look so … relaxed. So at ease. The pitch and frenzy of the fountain behind them contrasted sharply with how sweetly natural their moment seemed. The intimacy was somehow much more embarrassing than if the picture had shown her in the middle of a sneeze, and Sara felt herself blush.

More amazing, however, was that Grissom looked a little pink. "It's… striking," he managed, trying to keep a professional appraisal.

Fuji beamed. "I'm very pleased with how the color turned out. I was worried since it was so dark, but I think the shadows worked to my advantage."

Still, Sara wasn't sure she wanted a shot like this as part of a publicly viewed illustration book. "Does your Vegas collection have a theme?"

"Mn," Fuji nodded. "It's going to be called i _Mayfly Cage. /i _"

Grissom perked up almost immediately. "That's a unique title."

"Do you know much about mayflies?"

Grissom shrugged. "I've picked up a few things here and there." Sara had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. He looked at her with a raised eyebrows, face perfectly deadpan.

"They're fascinating creatures," Fuji explained. "Such a short life span in which to accomplish so very much. They truly embody the theme of living in the moment, and moments are what Vegas is all about. Everyone who comes here is hoping to capture just the tiniest moment like this one."

"So why the cage?" Sara asked.

"That's what I hope to do with the book: capture as many tiny moments like this as I can."

"And sell them to tourists?" Grissom asked with a smirk.

Fuji laughed, "Even artists have to eat."

Grissom's cell phone chose that moment to burst to life and let "The Emperor's March" from _Star Wars_ ring out: Ecklie. Grissom apologized and stepped out to take the call, leaving Sara alone with the odd photographer.

She glanced at the picture again. "It's kind of a sad title, though, don't you think?"

Fuji cocked his head to one side, "How so?"

"Well, mayflies have such short lives. It kind of feels like this moment is … temporary."

"We can't know the future," Fuji nodded, eyes opening with a solemn, faraway expression. "So many things are temporary, and we never know what they are until it's too late."

He didn't need to tell Sara that. Grissom didn't talk about Sara's condition in the hospital, which is how she could gauge how close a call she'd had.

"But when I look at this photo, it doesn't make me think of the future. I like to think that I see a little of your past. A mayfly works very hard to achieve its form. They go from egg, to nymph, even a kind of half-metamorphosis to reach maturity. It's an amazing amount of work. And this picture lets me see that the two of you have been through a few trials as well."

"Really?" Sara asked skeptically. He was beginning to remind her of a second-rate tarot reader.

Fuji moved to the chair next to her, pointing to the photograph. "Look at the hands, the way you're clutching at his jacket, like you've been separated before, but you're determined not to let it happen again. And if you look at his stance-- most people would turn to face each other when kissing, but he turned three quarters around, keeping himself in the spray of the fountain; he feels a reason to protect you. There's so much history a passive viewer can imagine from this angle…" He trailed off, looking almost startled to recognize the three-dimensional Sara next to him. "I hope you don't think I'm being rude. This is just an artistic assessment, so it might not--"

"No, I see what you mean. It's … kind of amazing."

The smile returned, once again beaming with pride. "How long have you been together?"

Ah, that question again. "It's hard to say. I've known him about ten years, but as to when we switched from knowing each other to being a couple… it took some time." Sara looked towards the room's door. "How about you two?"

Fuji laughed a little. "It's… similarly complicated. We met in middle school, but he went abroad in high school. I didn't seem him again till college. Even then getting this far took a good deal of wearing down on both our parts. And it doesn't help that Tezuka has the communicative capability of an unripe avocado."

Sara laughed. "It could be worse. He could just reply to any emotive questions with bizarre quotes that never connect to the topic at hand."

"Better than spending your life over-analyzing the nuances of every shrug and eyebrow raise."

"Sounds like a lot of work."

Fuji's eyes drifted back to the picture. "Mn. Not sure why I enjoy it so much…"

"I guess I never really considered it 'enjoyable.' Frustrating, irritating, exacerbating, maybe. Enjoyable, no"

A spark flashed through Fuji's eyes as they raised to lock on Sara. "You strike me as a woman who appreciates a good challenge."

Sara glanced back to Grissom's image, to the softened features, the bow-legged stance. "Maybe it's not the challenge I enjoy as much as the reward."

"It sounds like two angles of the same picture," Fuji smiled. "I ought to try that some time…"

"He's been gone a while now," Sara noted, glancing at her watch. "I should check and make sure nothing's wrong." She stood, and Fuji rose to open the door for her; The two of them spent the next few seconds picking their jaws up from the floor.

"Tezuka," Fuji managed after the stunned silence passed. "For a second, it looked like you were engaged in an animated conversation."

"That does sound ridiculous," the manager deadpanned.

"What were you boys talking about?" Sara asked, eyeing Grissom curiously.

"Bugs," Grissom answered at the same time Tezuka said, "Tennis." Seeing a need to clarify, Grissom continued, "Bug bites and various remedies to minimize distraction during games of tennis."

"Of course," Sara nodded, then gestured to the phone in Grissom's hand. "Is everything okay?"

Grissom shrugged, "I'm going to have to go down to the lab. Sorry to cut this short."

"Not at all," Fuji waved a hand. "But if you've decided about the photos…"

Grissom looked at Sara, an 'up to you' expression on his face. Fuji bit his lower lip, smile still present but a little nervous. "I'd… like you to use it," she said eventually.

To her surprise, both Fuji and Tezuka exhaled in relief after she'd said it. The couples talked a little more about the city as Sara and Grissom signed the release forms. Fuji promised them a tour guide if they ever visited Tokyo.

"They're an … interesting pair," Grissom noted as they walked down the hall. "We probably could have asked for a sitting fee."

"We couldn't take money from starving artists."

Grissom raised an eyebrow. "They didn't look like they were starving."

"Did you see Fuji's wrists? I have thicker pencils. If nothing else, they can take the money from the books and by some nice, fattening American food."

Laughing, Grissom put his arm around Sara as they walked.

"So are you going to tell me what you were really talking about?" she asked.

Grissom pondered his answer for a moment. "Communication," he eventually settled on. "And the ability to understand people with as complex, dynamic, and amazing personalities as the people we love."

"Not a bad cover for saying you don't understand the crazy woman you're marrying."

"I believe I said complex, dynamic, and amazing. What about you? I left you and the underfed photographer alone for a good amount of time. What were you talking about?

Sara spent a second looking at her legs, marveling as they stepped down the patterned carpet stairs. Then she looked at Grissom, his face open and inquisitive. She thought of how close she almost came to losing both, and answered, "Mayflies."

For as difficult as he claimed Sara was to understand, he didn't ask for clarification, just held her a little tighter as they walked back into the afternoon sunlight.. "And you really don't mind that picture going into a tourist book and everybody looking at it?"

"It's not a big deal, and I … kinda like the picture. He made a pretty good case for it. Besides, you can hardly tell it's us, and who do we know that's going to find out?"

* * *

"Sara and Grissom, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N--"

"Where did you get that?" Sara snapped, as an all too cheerful Greg dangled the book in front of her.

"Nick's sister came in to town and bought it at the airport and showed it to him and he showed it to me."

"Great." Translation: Greg had already shown the entire lab before coming over to mock her.

"It's weird," he frowned, turning it on its side. "Grissom kissing anyone is kinda weird… no offense."

"None taken."

Greg's brow furrowed in thought. "Course if I'm going to your guys' wedding, I'm going to have to see Grissom kissing. I don't know how I'm going to mentally prepare for that. I am going to your guys' wedding right?"

"Not if you keep serenading me at work."

Greg continued as if she hadn't spoke. "I only ask because I haven't gotten an invitation, or even been told the location of said event, and you haven't been looking through bridal magazines or honeymoon brochures or anything. You guys _do _know you have to plan weddings, right?"

Sara flipped through the files on her desk, making a few notes on the side. "I'd heard that somewhere."

"So have you planned anything yet?"

Sara looked at the picture Greg conveniently left face up on the corner of her desk. "I've hired the photographer."


End file.
